"Good sir, I thought I was; I never wished to change my lot until to-day."
"Ah! I have heard of thy dislike of the many suitors who sought thy hand."
"Not my dislike, but my indifference. I did not believe in Love. Though it was all around me in Nature, still I had never known it; and there was something so imperfect, so earthly, in the great princes who wished to marry me. Until to-day I was blindly ignorant."
"Until to-day!" reiterated the Prince, gazing at her with eyes indescribably tender and yearning.
"But since thou hast asked my father for my hand, and he hath given his consent, I may tell thee all I feel, may I not?"
"Ah, sweet Princess! I know all that thou dost feel; I feel all that thou wouldst say."
Then they were silent for some time. The moon shone, and the floor of heaven was studded with silver stars. The flowers were asleep, excepting the Evening Primrose. Myra saw her in the arms of Night, and heard their gentle voices. She thought of the Rose-Mallow, and pondered with new-born sympathy on the Violet's pain.
"Dear one, we must part now," said the Prince, as they
paused before the palace gates. "But ere thou goest, tell me, wouldst thou be very unhappy if I never came to thee again?"
A cold fear entered the Princess's heart.